


The World Was Wide Enough

by ephemeralstark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Happy Hogan, Hurt May Parker (Spider-Man), Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Happy, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23612653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstark/pseuds/ephemeralstark
Summary: Mr. Stark raised the gun at him, “what- what are you doing?” Peter asked, cursing himself for how shaky he sounded.“You don’t get it do you?” Mr. Stark asked. “You don’t get it! I’m doing this to prove to him that you’re not everything he thinks. We’ve been here so many times and you never understand, never. So how come you deserve everything that I wanted?”Peter shook his head in confusion, “Mr. Stark, please, what do you mean?”“You see this Tony?” Mr. Stark shouted, looking up at nothing. “Do you see what you’ve chosen as your intern? And what you’re missing out on?”Peter has amnesia, May is missing, and Mr. Stark is... not Mr. Stark. It's hard to figure out what is happening when Peter can't remember anything.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 43
Kudos: 179
Collections: IronDad Four Tags Challenge





	1. Peter has a headache

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Irondad and Spiderson discord server event, in which we all decided to write fics with the tags Amnesia, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark and Hurt/Comfort. 
> 
> This was my take <3 and it will be updated and complete over the next few days.

The first thing Peter noticed when he woke up was that he had forgotten to close his bedroom window the night before. A breeze was ruffling his now damp curtains and there was a small puddle of water pooling on the floor. Uh oh, May was going to be pissed if that had caused serious damage, he was usually very careful about not leaving the window open when he went out on his nightly duties.

The second thing he noticed was the thudding headache that made him immediately crash back onto his pillows, groaning in pain, and then immediately regretting that decision as the noise caused ripples of agony to travel from the front of his brain to the back.

 _What the hell?_ Was his immediate thought, what had gone on last night?

Wait…

What _had_ gone on last night?

Peter tried his best to think back but all he could remember was getting home and shoving a sandwich down his throat after school, as he read the note that May had left on the fridge saying she would be working late. After that everything was fuzzy and dark, maybe if his head wasn’t killing him he would’ve been able to try and focus so he could figure out what was going on, but as it was he didn’t think he would be able to stand trying.

It wasn’t worth it.

Or at least, that’s what he thought before he glanced down and saw the dark red – almost black – stains that were covering his hands and marking his once green duvet cover.

“What the-” he trailed off, trying to ignore the pounding in his head.

Wanting nothing more than to fall asleep once more and wake up having just had a bad dream, Peter closed his eyes. He opened them again immediately after, no, he was being stupid.

There was no way this was a bad dream, never before had his bad dreams featured killer headaches.

“May?” He called out, he was scared to raise his voice due to the pain in his head but he knew it was too quiet to be heard outside the room, summoning his strength and after bracing himself against his pillows, he tried again. Louder, this time. “May?”

No answer.

A terrifying thought entered his mind, what if the blood on his hands was hers? He wasn’t sure where that thought came from, since he had no reason to think it was a possibility, but he couldn’t ignore it.

Ignoring the pounding in his skull, he threw his covers off in a sudden movement and rolled out of bed. His body wasn’t expecting such a change in position and Peter’s vision blurred and darkness crept in around the edges as he stumbled towards his door.

There was no blood on the handle – on either side. That was a good sign, right? That meant that May wasn’t hurt and lying somewhere in the apartment while he went to bed and slept.

“May?” He called once more.

Silence.

Using the walls to guide and support him, he made his way to her bedroom, leaving dull marks wherever his fingers touched. When May did get home, she was going to be pissed about that.

 _If May ever comes home,_ a dark voice whispered from somewhere.

“No.” Peter said, audibly fighting his thoughts.

May was going to be fine, she had to be, she was all he had left and there was nothing that could take her away. The universe owed him this.

“May?” He knocked lightly on her door before swinging it open. Empty. May wasn’t in there, and what was weirder was that her bed was still made.

May _never_ made her bed in the morning. The only time she would do it was when she changed her bedding, which had been yesterday. That meant that May hadn’t come home last night.

The pieces were coming together clumsily in his mind.

May hadn’t come home.

Peter’s hands were covered in dried blood.

Peter couldn’t remember anything from the previous night.

It was only natural for him to be concerned, after all, it was feeling more and more likely that he had done something wrong. Could he have though? Could he really have hurt the one person who cared for him more than anything else in the world? Was he capable of such an act? There was a lot Peter didn’t know about his Spider-Man powers, and a lot he did. He knew about his strength, his speed, his agility, the things that would make him a dangerous predator for someone like May.

He needed help.

He raced back to his room, fumbling for his phone on his bedside table. The screen was also smeared with red. It was becoming more and more likely that Peter had hurt someone and that someone was very possibly his Aunt.

_“You have reached the voicemail for… Happy Hogan… please leave a message after the tone.”_

“Happy, you need to pick up, you need to call me, please. This is urgent. This isn’t about any of my Spider-Man activities. Well, it might be, I don’t know, I can’t remember.” Peter rambled. “I think I’ve done something bad. There’s blood all over my hands, but I don’t remember what happened, I don’t think it’s mine though, I’m not hurt anywhere.”

Peter paused, mentally assessing himself for pain. No, other than the throbbing in his head, he was pain free.

“I don’t know what happened, please, just help me. I think I need to find May, she might be hurt… Happy, I might have hurt her.” Peter cut off with a choked sound, hanging up to avoid Happy hearing him cry.

Not that Happy hadn’t heard that before, Peter had sent him a voicemail where he’d cried after rescuing a dog from the middle of the road – it had been a close call and had left him feeling quite shaken. Somehow though, this felt different.

 _Please, Happy, please,_ Peter pleaded mentally, as he sank down in the middle of the room. The dried blood on his hands left smudges on the carpet. May wouldn’t like that, she always told him to be mindful of his shoes creating a mess on the floors. He would have given anything for her to give him hell for the smudges.

Could Peter have hurt her? Was he capable of that?

He wanted to say no, he wanted to be sure that there was nothing more sacred to him that his family, but he couldn’t remember what had happened the night before. He had no idea whose blood was all over him, or what had happened to cause that blood to be on his hands and body.

Should he shower?

Should he wait for Happy to call back?

He didn’t know what to do.

_May!_

He was assuming that it was likely to be May’s blood because she hadn’t come home last night, but what if it wasn’t, what if there was a completely separate reason that she hadn’t come home.

Peter fumbled for his phone again, ignoring the cracked screen and streaks of dried crimson.

“Come on, May, please.” He begged as he tapped on her contact details, his phone rang… once… twice… straight to voicemail. Her phone was off.

Why?

She _never_ turned her phone off, ever. She was so keen for Peter to be able to get a hold of her whenever he needed that she would carry around a power bank in her handbag just in case her battery was low.

Something was wrong. Something was so, so very wrong.

Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, making the pounding in his head a million times worse.

_Bzzzzzzzzz_

Peter’s phone made him jump as it vibrated, he didn’t even look at the caller ID as he accepted and slammed it against his ear, letting out a choked, “May?”

“No, kiddo, it’s me.”

Mr. Stark.

“Oh.” Peter said quietly, trying to hide his sniffles.

“I heard the message you left Happy,” Mr. Stark said, sounding far too calm and collected for having heard that message, “we’re on our way over just now.”

“Thank you.” Peter said quietly, “I just-”

He broke off, letting out an embarrassing sob.

“It’s going to be alright, Pete, I promise.” Mr. Stark said. “Just stay put alright? We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Will you stay on the line?” Peter asked, feeling like a child for doing so.

“Oh, uh, of course, Kiddo.” Mr. Stark said, seemingly surprised by the request. Whether it was the fact that Peter had felt upset enough to ask, or that fact that Peter had asked _him_ , he didn’t know.

He was just relieved that Mr. Stark had agreed.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, “I just- I’m, uh, there’s-”

“Underoos, take a deep breath, alright?” Mr. Stark said. “You’re alright, we’re not far away, we’ll be there very soon.”

“Mr. Stark, I can’t remember what happened last night.” Peter said.

“I know, Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said, and then quieter, “run the fucking red Happy, it’s a ghost town out here, I’ll pay the fine.”

“May is missing.” Peter mumbled. “What if I hurt her?”

“Would you ever do that?” Mr. Stark asked sceptically, “like seriously? If, and that’s a big if, that blood belongs to May, then it’s probably there because you were trying to find her, not because you were trying to hurt her.”

“But I can’t _remember!”_ Peter shouted, breathing heavily. “Shit, I’m sorry Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

“Kid, it’s alright,” Mr. Stark was quick to reassure him, “I get it, it’s a stressful time.”

“Stressful doesn’t even cover it.” Peter mumbled.

“Listen, kiddo, we’re outside, we’ll be up on a moment so I’m going to hang up now.”

“Alright.”

_We?_

The phone disconnected and Peter listened to nothing for a moment until the buzzer rang, making him jump out of his skin, and drop his phone. _Door, they’re at the door._ He lurched to his feet, stumbling and almost face planting the ground, he was really off his game.

Peter slammed his finger against the button, listening to the faint buzz that came from downstairs signifying the open door. Footsteps – two pairs, there were two people. Mr. Stark and… probably Happy, that would make the most sense.

The footsteps grew heavier.

_“Get the damn kid under control.”_

_“No!” Peter shouted, struggling in the grips of the men._

_“We’re trying, he’s strong.” One of the men holding him shouted. “Get the freaking handcuffs!”_

_“No, no, no!” Peter tried his best to struggle, his movements were weak and sluggish, something was wrong._

“Pete, come on kiddo, open up,” that was a different voice, familiar, Mr. Stark, “come on, I know you’re in there.”

Open the door. He could do that. He could.

Peter opened the door and found that he had to hold back a sob. It was Mr. Stark, it was really him. he launched himself at him instantly, forgetting about the blood that was covering him, and the worry that he’d hurt his Aunt, and-

“Hey, Peter, come on, you’re alright.” Mr. Stark said, his arms wrapping around Peter, holding him together.

Peter opened his mouth to say something, anything, to try and reassure Mr. Stark that he wasn’t falling apart as much as he appeared to be, but all that came out was a sob.

“Come on, Kiddo, let’s go inside.” Mr. Stark said, guiding Peter back to the sofa by his shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” Peter mumbled.

“Don’t be, we’re going to figure this out, alright?” Mr. Stark said trying his best to reassure Peter, not that it was very comforting, after all – there was no way he could make any guarantees.

“Are we?” Peter asked quietly.

“Of course,” an unfamiliar voice said. That… wasn’t Happy.

“Huh?” Peter stared at the man who was hovering behind Mr. Stark with a look of concern. Wait, Peter knew that face. “Colonel Rhodes?”

“Call me Rhodey.”

“What? Why are you- sorry, I don’t mean to be rude,” Peter said quickly, “but where’s Happy?”

“Downstairs,” Mr. Stark said, “we wanted him to keep the car running while we came up to get you.”

“But- what?” Peter was confused, his head was pounding, there was too much to think about and it was overwhelming him.

“We’re taking you back to the tower,” Mr. Stark said.

“Why two of you?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes.

He didn’t trust this.

“Rhodey heard me and Hap talking about what was going on and decided to tag along for the ride.” Mr. Stark said.

“No.” Peter mumbled.

“No?”

“This isn’t right.” Peter mumbled.

“You said he knew Rhodes!” Mr. Stark said, whirling around to face the other man. “Your intel is wrong, who the fuck have you been talking to?”

“What?” Peter asked, backing away from the two men, something was wildly wrong.

“The fucking driver! He should know, just put an end to this.” Colonel Rhodes said. “We need to restart; this is a dud.”

“It’s only a dud because you fucked up.” Mr. Stark said. “We don’t know how restarting is going to go, we don’t know enough about his abilities.”

“Just restart.”

“Fine, but if this one goes wrong too, you’re out.”

“It’s not going to go wrong.”

Mr. Stark turned to look at Peter with a sinister smile, before pulling a gun out of his pocket.

“Really?” Colonel Rhodes asked. “Do you have to be so dramatic about this?”

“Might as well, isn’t there a point to prove here?”

“Fine, whatever.”

_BANG_

_-_

Peter woke up with an ache in his head and a strange feeling hanging over him. He felt as though his Spidey-Senses were just on the cusp of warning him of some kind of danger, like even they weren’t sure whether something was wrong or not.

“Ow,” he moaned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, pressing a hand against his head to help hold it together as the pounding worsened thanks to the movement, “damn it.”

His hand felt strange against his head, pulling it back he realised that it was still covered by his Spider-Man suit, but… _oh_.

The normally red material was coated in an even darker red. Something that could only be one thing, and that one thing sent fear spiking through Peter’s stomach. Blood. Why was there blood on his hands? What had happened? Was it his?

He pushed himself out of bed, ignoring the pounding in his head and rushed over to his mirror to look at his reflection.

The blood was not only all over his hands but also coating his chest and abdomen – he wasn’t wearing his mask, but there was no signs of any injuries on his head, no head wounds that could be blamed for the excessive blood and the pounding in his head. Nothing at all to signify it would have been his blood. Unless the wound had been on his abdomen and the wound had healed – except there were no rips or tears in his suit to suggest that he had been injured through it.

So who did the blood belong to?

Peter stripped the suit off, pulling on a pair of abandoned sweats and a t-shirt that had been dumped on his bedroom floor days ago. He couldn’t walk out there covered in blood, even though the apartment sounded suspiciously quiet.

“May?” He called out, as he opened his door.

_What time is it?_

“May, are you here?” _Really, Peter, if she’s not is she going to answer?_

There were none of the familiar sounds of her presence in the air, no music playing in the background, no clicking of a pen as she worked on a crossword, no smell of burning lingering in the air from yet another failed attempt at cooking, no lingering smell of coffee in the air.

Something was wrong.

Peter’s Spidey-Sense was still doing the strange, almost worried alert, which was annoying – either he was in danger or he wasn’t? which was it?

“May?”

Peter’s fears were confirmed as he looked around the apartment and there were no signs at all that May had been there. No coffee cup sitting in the sink waiting to be washed, no burnt toast lying by the toaster as a problem for future May. There wasn’t even a damp towel dumped in front of the washing machine from her morning shower.

Bur she wasn’t home, she hadn’t overslept, there was only Peter’s heart beat and breathing in the apartment.

“What the-”

Peter raced down the corridor to May’s room, throwing the door open with slightly too much force, it slammed into the wall and Peter heard a little bit of plaster fall down to the floor.

“Oh no, oh no,” he muttered, fighting the urge to take a step back, “no, no, no!”

The bed was covered in blood, and it was trailing over to the window, Peter took a step closer and saw grooves in the wooden floors. Claw marks, had May been dragged out? And by who? Who would possibly do that to her?

 _I had blood on my Spider-Man suit,_ Peter realised, _and there’s no way I wouldn’t have heard this commotion, no way at all. Maybe I-_

He needed to speak to Mr. Stark.

He ran away from the macabre scene, tripping over his own feet as he did so, only just catching himself before he managed to faceplant the ground.

Grabbing his phone off his bedside table, he scrolled with trembling hands until he found Mr. Stark’s contact.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

“Hey, Kiddo, you’re calling early!” Mr. Stark’s familiar voice came down the line, and Peter felt his shoulders relax. “You’re lucky I haven’t gone to bed yet, 6am must be a record.”

“Mr. Stark.” Peter said, barely making the words out, his throat felt thick, as though it was blocked with something.

“Pete?” His mentor was instantly concerned. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“May.” Peter choked out.

“May? Your hot aunt? What’s happened?”

“I- I don’t-” Peter faltered, what had happened? He had no idea. “I don’t know, I just- I can’t-”

“Alright, alright,” Mr. Stark said quickly, his voice taking on a soothing tone as he tried his best to reassure Peter, “I’m on my way over, just stay on the line, alright?”

“Ok.” Peter said.

He was crying, when had he started crying?

“I’m not going to be long,” Mr. Stark said, “can you tell me what’s happening?”

“I don’t know, I woke up covered in- in blood, and then I couldn’t f-f-find May, but there’s b-blood in her room and scratch marks in the floor. I… I think someone dragged her out the window.”

“You were covered in blood?”

“Yeah, Mr. Stark, what if-” Peter paused, scared to ask the important question, “what if it was me?”

“It wasn’t you,” Mr. Stark said reassuringly.

“But how can you know?”

“Because you’re you, kiddo, there’s no way you’re capable of this.” Mr. Stark said.

“But- but I- I can’t remember what happened last night,” Peter admitted, “I can’t promise I didn’t do something bad.”

“You won’t have,” Mr. Stark promised, “now, me and Happy are coming to get you, alright?”

“I don’t know what to do.” Peter said quietly.

“Bag up your blood stained clothes. Don’t mess with anything in the apartment, we’ll take photos when we arrive, we’re going to fix this.” Mr. Stark instructed.

“What if May is… y’know?”

“She’s fine,” Mr. Stark said, “I swear, she’s fine, we’re not going to accept anything else.”

Peter appreciated the sentiment, but how could Mr. Stark rely on sheer willpower? There was no guarantee of anything and judging by the amount of blood that was covering Peter’s suit, and May’s floor – May was not _fine._

“Sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled as he opened May’s door, taking a deep breath in through his mouth to try and ground himself, “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Peter opened the window, trying to avoid the bloodstained spots, and stuck his head out.

There were a few streaks of blood down the side of the building, it wouldn’t be visible to a normal person, not against the red bricks, but Peter’s enhanced eyesight was working to his advantage… for once.

_I shouldn’t jump out, not in my normal clothes, but my suit is covered in blood, it would scare the neighbours even more._

Throwing caution to the wind, Peter stuck to the outside wall and scampered down, being sure not to mess with any of the blood splatters. May was more important than any secret identity.

He made it all the way down until he was only a few metres from the ground and jumped, landing perfectly on his feet, there was more blood down on the ground.

 _How much blood can someone lose before they die?_ Peter idly wondered. _No, don’t think about that, she’s fine. Mr. Stark promised she’s fine. He’s usually right, I can trust him._

Peter followed the blood spots until they disappeared, only two hundred feet from where he had started. What had happened there? Had she bled out? Had there been another person? Maybe someone with a car? Had someone picked her up? Had Peter?

Who else would have been able to dry a full grown woman out of an apartment window – they definitely didn’t live on the ground floor.

Peter didn’t realise how much time had passed before his phone started to ring again, so he fished it out of his pocket and answered the call.

“Tell me, Kid, why the hell aren’t you answering the buzzer.” Mr. Stark sounded irate.

“Oh, uh, two seconds, I missed it.” Peter lied, running back to the wall he’d crawled down. Hopefully Mr. Stark wouldn’t hear the footsteps through the speaker.

“How did you miss it? Don’t you have super hearing?” Mr. Stark asked, his tone was wrong – too curious, less sure of the information that he knew for a fact.

“I was just trying to call May again.” Peter lied.

“Oh, alright.” Mr. Stark said.

He shouldn’t have accepted that so easily, he shouldn’t have thought that Peter taking a phone call would mean that he would miss the door buzzer.

Peter’s vague sense of unsettledness rang out again as he climbed back through the blood stained window and closed it gently behind him.

The buzzer was still going, Mr. Stark must have been pressing his finger on it without releasing. Peter pressed the button to let him through. His Spidey-Sense seemed to be getting stronger with its warning. There was something very, very wrong, but Peter couldn’t tell what it was.

“Hey, Peter,” Mr. Stark said, as he opened the door to Peter’s apartment and walked in, _he normally knocks, why didn’t he knock?_ Peter shrugged that thought off, he’d phoned his mentor complaining about being covered in blood, of course he wouldn’t be calm enough to knock before entering.

“Hey.”

Mr. Stark walked towards him, arms wide open, going in for a hug. That was… odd. Peter was always the one to initiate hugs, Mr. Stark had long since stopped evading them, but he would never be the first to offer one. Was this because of the blood thing? What was going on.

“You alright, Pete?” Mr. Stark asked, making Peter realise that he was standing like a ramrod, body stiff, Spidey-Sense making him feel antsy.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Peter lied, bringing stiff arms up to hold onto Mr. Stark, “I’m all good.”

“Right, so Happy’s keeping the car running, you grab your clothes and I’ll take some pictures, and we can be on our way.”

“Ok.” Peter said slowly, heading back to his room, where his Spider-Man suit lay abandoned on the floor.

He bagged it up slowly, feeling as though he should have been doing something else, anything else. Why did a stupid suit matter so much when his Aunt was missing?

“Come on then,” Mr. Stark called, he was standing at the front door again, that had been fast.

“I’m coming,” Peter mumbled, “is Happy alright with this?”

“Of course he is.” Mr. Stark said.

Huh, really? Happy was never happy to be running around after Peter, he was always complaining about how important his job was as the head of security, and how Peter was a security risk. There was nothing Peter could say to change his mind on that, after all, he had crashed Mr. Stark’s plane that one time.

Sure, Mr. Stark had forgiven him for that, but still – Peter was a kid and he was a risk to Stark Industries, despite all of his good intentions. So while Happy tolerated him and looked after him, he was never happy to see him.

“Hey, Happy,” Peter said cautiously as he slid into the backseat.

“Hey, Kiddo, how’s it going?” Peter stared at him for a moment, unable to speak for pure shock, he barely registered Mr. Stark sitting next to him. “Pete, you good?”

“I, uh, yeah, great.” Peter mumbled. “Hey, Happy, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” Happy said with a strange smile, before pulling away with a jolt that made Peter’s head ram back into the headrest, bringing back some of the throbbing pain from earlier.

“So what’s the plan?” Peter asked.

“Plan?” Happy asked.

“Mr. Stark, didn’t you tell him?” Peter wondered.

“He’s my driver, why would I?”

**Wrong! Wrong! Get out of there!**

Peter’s hand fumbled for the door handle, and he pulled preparing to launch himself out of the door, but the child safety locks were on.

“Peter, what are you-”

“Stay away from me!” Peter shouted, cutting off Mr. Stark. “I don’t know what’s going on, but this is wrong, this is all wrong.”

“Peter, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Peter yelled. “Let me out! I need to find May!”

“Right, we tried, I guess we need to restart again.” Mr. Stark said, turning to Happy.

“How many times are we going to have to go through this, this is the fifth one,” Happy complained, “the kid is seeing through us.”

“We’re missing something.” Mr. Stark said. “We just need to figure out what it is.”

“Uh, guys?” Peter asked hesitantly, scared to grab their attention, but knowing that he needed answers. “What the hell is going on?”

Mr. Stark didn’t scold him for his language like he normally did – because he was a huge hypocrite. Instead, he pulled out a gun, Peter flinched at the sight of it. Mr. Stark didn’t normally carry guns, Peter remembered that one night in the Workshop he had admitted that ever since his ordeal in Afghanistan he was very much against weapons. He didn’t want to make them or carry them if he could help it.

Peter had then mentioned that they had been working on new Iron Man repulsors, to which Mr. Stark had said that if a threat called for Avengers help then repulsors were the least of his problems.

Peter got it, or at least he thought he did. He wasn’t completely sure, but he appreciated Mr. Stark’s attempt to be vulnerable.

“Uh, Sir, what are you doing?”

 _You need to say ‘don’t call me Sir’_ Peter mentally pleaded. _Just say it, so I know you’re you._

“Shut up.” Mr. Stark said. “Hold still, I don’t want to accidentally kill you or anything.”

“What do yo-”

**_BANG_ **

Peter didn’t wake with a jolt that morning, he woke slowly, his mind groggy and something important sitting on the edge of his conscience. _This isn’t right,_ was his first thought.

 _Someone is watching me,_ was his second.

He froze in his bed, before forcing himself to relax – someone was watching him, but they didn’t know that he knew they were watching. He had to play it cool and see what the plan was, why exactly was he being monitored and by who?

What were they trying to do?

Was it someone trying to expose him as Spider-Man? Because if so, then they wouldn’t have to watch for long, he apparently had fallen asleep in his suit.

His suit that was… covered in blood?

What?

Was he being set up for a practical joke?

No, his screaming Spidey-Sense was enough proof that he wasn’t. This was something serious, something that he couldn’t ignore and the blood that was covering him was real. Maybe he should call Mr. Stark.

Even as he thought about it, he knew he wasn’t going to, a memory filtered to the front of his mind.

_Mr. Stark raised the gun at him, “what- what are you doing?” Peter asked, cursing himself for how shaky he sounded._

_“You don’t get it do you?” Mr. Stark asked. “You don’t get it! I’m doing this to prove to_ him _that you’re not everything he thinks. We’ve been here so many times and you never understand, never. So how come you deserve everything that I wanted?”_

_Peter shook his head in confusion, “Mr. Stark, please, what do you mean?”_

_“You see this Tony?” Mr. Stark shouted, looking up at nothing. “Do you see what you’ve chosen as your intern? And what you’re missing out on?”_

Peter frowned pressing a hand against his forehead, his head _hurt_ , it hurt so much, and the memory was beyond confusing. He couldn’t remember that happening, and yet he was almost sure that it had, so what did that mean? Had he lived through something like that? Surely Mr. Stark wouldn’t aim a gun at him? this was the man who had disabled all of his Iron Man suit’s repulsors before allowing Peter to _look_ at it, the man who had come up with the training wheels protocol, the man who had given Peter an instant kill mode in case he ran into a truly desperate situation.

There was no way he would do that.

No way at all.

Something was going on and Peter needed to figure out what that was, he _needed_ to.


	2. The headache gets worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait ://///

Peter panicked for a moment, before taking a deep breath and letting it slowly filter out through trembling lips as he tried to process everything that he was going through. He needed to work through his situation. He was in danger – that much was very clear; his Spidey-Sense wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace and there was that strange…memory? The one where Mr. Stark had drawn a gun on Peter and had shouted at _himself_. 

That wasn’t normal.

Peter was also covered in a blood-like substance, and until he had reason to believe that it wasn’t blood then he would have to assume that it was. That was worrying, he would need to reassess that point in the future – he didn’t know whose blood it was or why he was covered in it.

Mr. Stark wasn’t Mr. Stark – the man would never have drawn a weapon at Peter. Never.

And by the sounds of the silent apartment around him, May wasn’t home even though she should have been.

But the Not-Mr. Stark knew where he was, he had access to Peter’s life, which was a concern and there was a good chance that he’d been keeping tabs on Peter for a while, but Peter had forgotten. Were there cameras in his home? Most likely, Not-Mr. Stark had looked up when he’d shouted at Mr. Stark to look at what he’d chosen as an intern… what he was missing out on.

How long had all of this been going on?

Had someone wiped Peter’s memories?

He had so many questions and so few answers, unfortunately he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be getting any, any time soon.

_I need to get rid of the eyes on me,_ Peter thought, _but if they’re watching then I can’t be obvious about it._

Peter quickly dealt with the tracker and baby monitor protocol installed in his suit by changing into an old pair of sweats and hoping that the person who had their eyes on them hadn’t bugged every single item of clothing in his apartment. Then he held his phone clearly in his hand for all the hidden cameras to see and let out a forced, frustrated sigh.

“This stupid thing and it’s stupid battery.” He said, as he threw it back on top of his bed. Hopefully whoever was watching didn’t know that it was actually at 54%. 

Hopefully they thought that he was just a stupid teen who couldn’t afford a great phone with good battery life. Hopefully they didn’t know that he had just thrown the latest Stark Phone on his duvet.

It was most likely wishful thinking, after all, they were watching him. They probably knew more about him than he did.

Still, he had so far managed to ditch the tracker in his suit and the one that was potentially in his phone, now he just needed to figure out a way to get out of the house without alerting his stalkers to the fact that he was trying to figure out what was going on.

_“Going to the shops?” Not-Mr. Stark asked, eyebrows raised, and mouth twisted in a smirk that was foreign on his mentor’s face. “Do you really think we’d fall for that? Do you really think we’re stupid enough to believe that Spider-Man would see all that blood and go out for milk?”_

_“I had to try something.” Peter snapped._

_“You don’t get it do you?” Not-Mr. Stark scoffed. “You’ve already tried everything; we’ve watched you through all of it. Everything that passes through your mind, we’ve already seen you do, we’re twenty steps ahead of you.”_

_“You can’t know all of this.” Peter said, refusing to believe it._

_“That’s where you’re wrong, Kiddo.” The nickname was wrong coming from the twisted Not-Mr. Stark. It seemed unnatural and sent shivers down his spine. “We can and we do.”_

_“But-”_

_“But to know that you’d have to see the future.” Not-Mr. Stark said, cutting Peter off with the exact words that had almost fallen from Peter’s lips. “No, I wouldn’t, I just know what you’d do because you’ve already done it.”_

_“You’re not making any sense.” Peter said._

_“And you’re a fool, I can’t see why he chose you, not when I was out there, look at what I can do – what I’ve already done,” Not-Mr. Stark said, “aren’t I already proven to be more intelligent than a child?”_

_“That doesn’t seem like a great thing to brag about,” Peter said, unable to bite his tongue, “if you have to prove to be smarter than a fifteen-year-old, it does raise concerns.”_

_“You insolent little-” Peter didn’t hear the rest as his ears were too busy ringing from the slap that had hit him. Not-Mr. Stark smirked, “I wonder if your Mr. Stark ever thought of doing that? I wouldn’t blame him. You’re a pain in the ass, Kid.”_

_Not-Mr. Stark cocked his gun, only to be interrupted by Happy… or rather Not-Happy._

_“Man, don’t do that.” Not-Happy said, and if Peter hadn’t been so concerned and confused, he probably would’ve laughed at the sight of Happy saying ‘man’._

_“Why not?” Not-Mr. Stark asked. “We need to reset.”_

_“It doesn’t last that long, if we keep doing this, he’s going to start retaining memories.” Not-Happy said._

_“I don’t care.” Not-Mr. Stark said. “If this proves to be too much trouble, we can just put a real bullet in them all.”_

Peter frowned. It seemed like there was something glaringly obvious on the edges of his mind, something that was important, something that would change the way the situation he was in would end.

He was so close to figuring it out, he just needed to focus.

He had a few facts that had come from the ‘memories’: he was being reset; Mr. Stark and Happy weren’t themselves; Mr. Stark and Happy were in danger; Peter was in danger; maybe May was in danger.

Were… no, that was impossible. But also, Peter was proof that the impossible was possible, he shouldn’t exist and yet he did, so could it be that there was someone wiping his memories? Why? What could they possibly have to gain from that?

It was frustrating, Peter would normally talk these things through with Mr. Stark or his aunt, they were great sounding boards when he couldn’t work through his thoughts effectively enough and found himself going around in circles.

There was also Ned…

Peter grabbed a notepad and tore out a piece of paper, scribbling a quick note on it:

**May,**

**If you get home and I’m not here, I’m going to Ned’s.**

**Peter**

It was brief enough that Peter hoped the people watching him didn’t suspect anything, hopefully he hadn’t already gone down that line in the past. If they weren’t expecting it, then maybe this time he would be successful and save his family.

Peter took it as a win that he had made it out of the apartment and out onto the street. He wasn’t really sure how far away the people watching him were, but hopefully the distance he was covering was a promising sign. He tried his best not to glance over his shoulders or to peer down the dark alleys he was passing, he didn’t want it to look like he was trying to spot people watching. That would just tick them off.

Peter made it to Ned’s house and lifted a trembling hand to knock on the door.

“Peter?”

“Hey, Mrs. Leeds, is Ned home?” Peter asked, hoping that he didn’t look as nervous as he was feeling.

“He is. Are you ok, Peter?” She asked, obviously she had noticed, she was Ned’s mom and Peter was fairly sure that she was able to read minds. She had a strange ability that told her when they were getting up to mischief.

“Yeah, great, I just remembered we have a project due on Monday and I was hoping to go over a few things while May’s out, this weekend is meant to be our time together.” He lied, feeling a pang of guilt when a gentle smile appeared on Mrs. Leeds’ face.

“Oh, you know she won’t be mad if you’re a little late home,” Mrs. Leeds said, before stepping back to allow Peter to enter the house, “but come in, Ned is just in his room. He should be tidying it but I’m sure I heard his Lightsaber toy making noises, so don’t blame me for the mess in there.”

“Alright.” Peter said with a forced laugh as he climbed the familiar stairs.

Was he making a mistake? Was he just bringing the danger to Ned’s family? Would Ned ever forgive him if something happened to his parents because of Peter?

Peter quickly made his way into Ned’s room, closing the door behind him.

“Huh, wha- Peter?” Ned asked, looking up from his place in the middle of the room where he was awkwardly standing in a dramatic pose with his Lightsaber.

“Hey!” Peter said with a grin. “I thought I’d take advantage of May being out to come and work on our project.”

“What project?” Ned asked with a frown.

“Well,” Peter said narrowing his eyes meaningfully at his friend, “it’s a good thing I came, since apparently you forgot about it.”

“Dude, what?”

Peter ignored Ned, hoping that his cover hadn’t already been blown, and took a seat at Ned’s computer drawing up a blank word document and hoping that there was no one monitoring the machine. Surely, they wouldn’t be? That would be too far, wouldn’t it? Surely there had to be a line, they couldn’t be _that_ dedicated.

**Don’t say anything out loud about this, but there are people watching everything I say and do. I think Mr. Stark and Happy are in danger. Maybe May too.**

“Hey, dude, I have a solid idea for the project here, will you have a read over it?” Peter asked.

“Dude, you’re being weird.” Ned said as he rolled his eyes and leant over to read what Peter had typed.

Peter watched him carefully, waiting to see if he would give him away. A sickening thought occurred to him all of a sudden, what if Ned was a Not-Ned? He would have just given himself away, all his careful planning and efforts to get that far and figure out what was going on, only to let himself be wiped out again.

Ned’s eyes widened and then like the true friend he was he leaned forward, “you’ve done good work so far, but how about this?”

**What the hell dude? How do you know?**

Peter hummed to himself, hoping that anyone who was watching would think that he was merely thinking their project over, before reaching out and typing. 

**You won't believe this, man, like I'm sure I've had my memories reset a few times today, like every time I get suspicious that there's something going on they reset me.**

Ned's eyes widened with disbelief. 

**Is that even possible?**

Was it? Peter didn't know, he'd accepted that it was happening, but Ned was right - how was it possible? Was it a drug or something? Were they injecting him? It seemed the most reasonable option, after all every memory that he was recalling was ending with a gun being turned on him. 

There was too much that didn't make any sense to him; how was Not-Mr. Stark resetting his memories? How was he taking on the form of Mr. Stark? How was any of it possible? 

Theories raced through his head at an alarming rate, from suspicions that Peter was in some sort of virtual reality to mind altering drugs that made him susceptible to suggestions - or hypnotism. They were ridiculous ideas, he wanted to chalk them off as impossible, but he couldn't. He had no idea what was going on, so he couldn't be hasty enough to say he knew for sure what was happening. 

Realising that time had been stretching on and Ned's concerned expression was growing more and more fearful with each passing second, Peter reached out and started to type out a quick: **I really have no idea what is going on, I'm going to figure it out though.**

Ned's concern didn't lessen with that, if anything, Peter was sure that it grew. 

**This seems dangerous, shouldn't you ask someone for help?**

**I'm asking you,** Peter typed, watching as a mixture of emotions passed over his best friend's face in rapid succession. 

Fear, pride, worry, anxiety, pride, concern, more fear, more worry.... 

**I'm honoured, really I am, I'm always happy to be your guy in the chair. I just don't think that I'm the one you want right now; I can't do anything to help you.**

**You can,** Peter typed, **I'm going to need someone on my side Ned, someone I can trust.**

"Alright." Ned said out loud, his voice making Peter jump slightly. 

"Yeah?" Peter asked. 

"Just, remember I'm new to-" Ned paused, seemingly remembering that there was potentially someone watching them, "I'm, uh, new to this subject. I might muck up a little." 

"Dude, don't worry, we'll manage."

"We have to, don't we?" Ned asked with a smile that lacked any humour.

Peter couldn't bring himself to return it, he was putting his best friend in danger, he could potentially be the reason his best friend was injured, or... worse. After all, wasn't it Peter's fault that May, Mr. Stark and Happy were in danger? Wasn't he to blame for not actually knowing what kind of state they were in? 

There he was, trying to form a miraculous rescue plan in his head with no idea where they were, who had them, or how hurt they were. It was almost laughable, maybe it would have been if the situation weren’t so dire. 

"Can I borrow your computer for a little longer?" Peter asked after a moment. 

"Uh, sure." Ned said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Peter took a deep breath in. Mr. Stark had trackers in all of his tech, and just as importantly - in the tech of people he cared about. So, with any luck, he should be able to hack Stark Industries so that he could find out a rough location for where his family was and then he could go in and perform the rescue of a century. 

If the bad guy was smart - which was a safe assumption to make - they would have taken Mr. Stark's tech off of him, otherwise he would have triggered a panic alarm and sent his location to everyone he knew within seconds of being kidnapped. 

But, what the kidnapper was probably forgetting was that Mr. Stark was a human with feelings and emotions, mainly he was a sucker for his family, and there was every chance that they would have overlooked that fact and refrained from taking Happy's tech away from him. 

That of course meant that Peter could hack into Stark Industries network and try to trace Happy's last known location. The bad guys were usually the same, they assumed that Mr. Stark was a robot, someone who didn't care for those around him, and that would be their downfall. 

It was rather satisfying to think - what many people would probably classify as a flaw was possibly Mr. Stark's biggest asset. It was what would save him. 

So, Peter tapped away on the keyboard with a renewed sense of purpose. 

It wouldn't be easy to hack Mr. Stark, but Peter was confident that he could do it. The man was a genius, but no code was impenetrable, which meant that there was always hope. Peter had been there when Mr. Stark had last updated his systems, he knew how to get in through the backdoor, he knew all the secrets. 

He could do it. He knew he could. 

"Uh, Peter, are you sure that's a good idea?" Ned asked, leaning forward on the bed to stare at the screen over his friend’s shoulder.

"It's the best one I've got." Peter murmured truthfully. 

What else could he do? If he went in there all guns blazing, then they would just reset his memories and start him all over again. He needed to sneak his way in, and this was his best shot. 

"Will he be mad?" Ned asked. 

"Nah," Peter mumbled, "he'll understand." 

_I hope._

It took Peter longer than he thought it would've to make it in, the systems that were in place to protect Mr. Stark's business and loved ones were mind blowing, he was convinced that it would've been impossible to make it in if he hadn't known how Mr. Stark's mind worked.

"Finally," he groaned after the sun had started to set between the skyscrapers that lined the skies of New York, "that was taking forever." 

Peter opened a map in a small window, hoping that there were no cameras in the room he was in. A small map opened, with a tiny green dot appearing, it was... Peter blinked. 

_No way,_ he thought, forcing back a curse that would expose him to the people watching. 

It was impossible and yet there it was, undeniable. The people who had captured Mr. Stark, May and Happy were at the abandoned warehouse, or rather they were where the warehouse had once been. 

They were in the place that Peter had been forced to confront who he was and find a strength he hadn't known had existed. 

Was that intentional? 

_Of course, it's intentional, there's no way that would happen as a coincidence,_ Peter berated himself. But why? Was it because someone from Peter's past had captured his family? Was it Toomes? No, he was meant to be in prison, there was no way he'd be free, Peter would've been warned. 

So one of his men? Someone who was bitter about their boss being caught and stopped before they could make all the big bucks? 

That was possible, but Peter had been operating under the assumption that they hadn't had the brains to run the operation, which was why they had been following The Vulture. Was that the mistake that would potentially cost him everything? 

"Peter..." Ned said slowly, also looking at the tiny dot on the map, "Is that not where-"

"Yeah." Peter said, cutting off his friend. 

"Are you gonna go?" 

"I don't have any other choice." Peter said honestly. 

"Sure you do, Peter you can ask for help you know." Ned insisted.

Peter, who had been pacing with the pent-up energy of the task at hand sank down heavily on the edge of Ned's bed, pinching his nose between his finger and thumb. The stress of the day was catching up on him, it was unfair, he just wanted to sit down and cry for a few hours, but he didn't even have the time for that. 

"Ned." Peter said before taking a deep breath to try and remove the waiver from his voice. "I don't know if I can trust anyone and- hell, I shouldn't be talking about this. _We_ shouldn't be talking about this." 

"I'll come with you." Ned said with wide eyes that showed no hint of a lie, albeit a fair amount of fear. 

" _Ned!"_

"Dude, this is dangerous, you can't go out there on your own." 

"It's because it's dangerous that I need you to stop talking about it." Peter said. "You're going to get yourself hurt."

"What about you?" Ned asked. 

"I'll manage, you can't come with me," he said, "I don't know what I'm going to find when I get there and I don't want to feel responsible for you being hurt." 

"You know you can't take responsibility for the actions of others, right?" Ned wondered. 

"Of course," Peter lied, "but I am responsible for my own actions, which means there is no way I'm going to take you with me."

"But-" 

"No Ned." Peter said stubbornly. 

"But-"

"Ned!" Peter said once more. "Look, man, I'm sorry, really I am, but believe me when I say that you really don't want to come with me." 

"I do though."

"Ned, please." Peter pleaded. "Don't make me fight about this with you. I can't. If this all goes south then-"

Peter broke off with a choked breath. He knew that Ned wasn't going to give up, and he knew that no matter how hard he tried to convince his best friend to stay behind the more he would end up convincing Ned that he needed to help. It was a never-ending cycle, and the longer it went on, then the more chance there was of one of them being hurt or Peter's memories being reset. 

So, Peter did the only logical thing that had come into his mind in that moment. 

He leapt out of Ned's partially opened bedroom window, ignoring the calls of his name from behind, ignoring the worry and betrayal in his friend’s voice as he begged Peter to come back, to talk to him. 

Peter ran down the street before launching himself into the sky and swinging away, hoping that in the dim light no one was watching him, after all he hadn't brought his Spider-Man suit with him, it was still sitting safely, or not, on his bedroom floor at home. He was on his own with this. He didn't even have Karen. 

He could do this though, he could. He _had_ to. 

The journey to the land that had once been home to the warehouse that still plagued Peter's nightmares was a long one, mainly because he was moving slowly and carefully checking over his shoulder every second minute to make sure that he wasn't being followed. 

Would the people who were tracking him be concerned that they hadn't seen him for a while or were they still watching, were they secretly rubbing their hands together in satisfaction as he fell into their trap and followed their plan to the T. It was all seeming a little fishy. 

Peter arrived at the site and was surprised to see that there was nothing there. At all. 

The warehouse that had collapsed on him had been cleared away - and a while ago if the small grass sprouts were any indication, leaving behind nothing... at all. It didn't make any sense; it was the place that had pinged for his family's last known location. It had been undeniable, but where were they. 

Peter was almost ready to leave when a car engine caught his attention, a smooth, purring noise that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life - he was sure that he'd been in that car already, except it had been wiped from his memory. 

Peter fully expected - Mr. Stark or rather Not-Mr. Stark - to climb out of the car and aim a gun at him. Hell, he even half expected Not-Happy to appear in line of sight, but instead he was met with a brown-haired man with stress lines on his face and the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“Peter.” The man said as though they were old acquaintances.

“Who are you?” Peter asked, taking a step back. 

The man’s eyes flitted down to track the movement before meeting Peter’s eyes once more in a movement so quick that Peter would have thought he had imagined it, if it wasn't for his Spider-Man abilities making that impossible. 

“I did wonder how long it would last in your system.” The man said with a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes. Peter’s Spidey-Sense was screaming at him to run away, and run fast, but he was forced to ignore it, as this was the only way he was going to get answers to all of his questions. He could tell. 

“What did you do to me?” Peter asked. 

“You’re the genius,” the man said coldly, “can’t you figure it out?”

_He’s goading you,_ Peter told himself, _don’t let him throw you off your game._

“Ah, cat got your tongue?” He asked. “What is it, Petey? Too afraid to answer? Maybe you know you’ve already lost… no, that can’t be it, can it? You still haven't even figured out what’s going on.”

“Where’s May?” Peter asked, trying his best to look like the man wasn't getting to him. 

“You’re full of questions.” 

“Where’s Mr. Stark?” 

“Kid, you aren’t in control here,” the man said, “you don't get to ask these questions, and you most certainly don't deserve any answers.” 

And then, the man who looked a lot like a teacher or a professor, lifted the gun that Peter had seen in Not-Mr. Stark’s hand. 

_Of course,_ Peter had only made it to Ned’s because they’d wanted him to. 

He’d only tracked Happy because they’d wanted him to. 

He was only standing there because they wanted him to. 

“No-”

**_BANG_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the comments/kudos/subscriptions/bookmarks!! the response to this has been overwhelming and amazing!! if you're enjoying why not check out my tumblr @[ephemeralstark](https://ephemeralstark.tumblr.com/) where I post some of my shorter drabbles!! 
> 
> Also, why not check out a few of my other fics? Here are just a few I have to offer: 
> 
> [Inimitable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22791088)  
> Summary: When a plane crashes in the middle of nowhere, what was meant to be a nice holiday for the Parker family takes a disastrous turn as seven-year-old Peter is left to fend for himself after losing his parents... or mostly for himself, there was one other survivor.
> 
> Hurt, lost, and slowly losing hope, Tony and Peter are forced to work together to survive but Iron Man never thought his biggest challenge would be keeping a kid alive and neither of them are quite what the other expected.  
>  **28K | Complete | Rated T**
> 
> [ Keep On Fighting in the Meantime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299702)  
> Summary: One decision is all it takes for someone's life to be thrown upside down, and sometimes it's not even a decision they've made.
> 
> Or, a drunk driver runs a red light and hits a car containing Peter and Happy. The physical and emotional injuries aren't going to go away easily, but thankfully Mr. Stark is always there for his family.  
>  **8.5K | complete | Rated T**
> 
> [What Do You Fall For?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608983)  
> Summary: Peter just wanted to buy a Christmas present for Mr. Stark, it wasn't his fault that the exact store he chose happened to be the target for a group of armed robbers.
> 
> Now he just wants to make it out alive, but he has no web shooters, no suit, and is wounded. Does he risk his life and the lives of the other hostages while fighting for their freedom, or hope for rescue?  
>  **13.6K | Complete | Rated M**

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, if you liked this please let me know! and you can find me on tumblr @[ephemeralstark](https://ephemeralstark.tumblr.com/)
> 
> if you liked this fic why not check out some of my others? i write irondad and a lot of hurt/comfort whumpy fics <3


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